


Shenanigans

by Weeblswobl



Category: Suits (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weeblswobl/pseuds/Weeblswobl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike's hazing by his fellow associates reaches a new low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

> No not *those* kind of shenanigans! :) I was wondering what it would take for Louis to intervene on Mike's behalf (which he sort of did in the last ep). Loosely a "missing scene" fic from Tricks of the Trade.

**Shenanigans**

“It’s getting out of hand, Louis.”

 Harvey Specter leaned on the counter near the rear picture window of his office, and shot the other man an accusatory glance.  It wasn’t like him to be so forthright, especially with Louis.  The junior partner bore the brunt of Harvey’s teasing with such annoyance that pestering the older man had almost become a pastime.  But the current climate among the associates was beginning to turn unusually vicious, even within the corporate pressure-cooker that was Pearson Hardman.  And although he had told Mike time and again he’d need to develop a thick skin for this job, Harvey had taken it upon himself to make sure that it wasn’t because Mike was constantly being stabbed in the back.

Harvey had expected Louis to protest, and rather emphatically at that. The man did after all wear indignation the way Harvey wore Rene’s artfully crafted suits.  Harvey’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly in surprise, however, as Louis looked back at him, sighed, and said simply “I know.”

“Last week it was the missing paperwork  that almost cost us the damn deal with Roche, and yesterday…” Harvey balled his fists and took a breath to rein in his temper.  He knew Louis wasn’t at fault for what he considered the final straw, and it wouldn’t do to give in to his anger when he was trying to recruit an ally.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Louis genuinely.  “I’m still trying to figure out who to send the pink slip to.  How’s the kid doing?”

 _The kid is pissed as all hell, and so am I_ , Harvey thought.  Instead he said “He’s doing okay.  I’ve warned him off trying to deal with this on his own.  I told him it would be taken care of.”

**

Harvey was eternally grateful that his meeting with Dominick had been pushed back a week.  He had been roaming the halls talking to Mike when Cheryl, Pearson Hardman’s head receptionist, came running up to them and solemnly handed Mike a phone message. 

Mike looked stricken, and sagged against the wall, taking deep breaths. 

“Mike, are you okay?” said Harvey, concerned.

In answer, Mike stood up and handed Harvey the phone message without speaking, a blank look now on his face.

“My office,” said Harvey, and grabbed the younger man’s arm to steer him down the hall.

Harvey’s mind churned during the few seconds it took to walk down the hall.  Something about the whole situation seemed off, and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. 

“Harvey, I- I have to go,” said Mike numbly as tears formed in his eyes.  They had reached the office and he stood in the middle of the room, staring at nothing.

“Hey, I know you’re upset,” said Harvey, “but just hang on a minute. Come here, sit down.” He led Mike to the sofa.  The question that had been elusively bouncing around his brain finally crystallized.  _Oh hell_ , he thought.

“Mike, hey, look at me,” he said, trying to focus the younger man’s gaze on his own. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Harvey, I need to _go_ …” said Mike, though he didn’t move from the sofa.

“Did you give your cell number to the nursing home?”

“That’s what you want to ask me?  Of course I did.  What-“ Realization dawned on Mike’s face.  He’s a quick one, thought Harvey, even through a curtain of grief. 

Mike shook his head and whispered “ _I can’t…”_

“I’ll do it,” said Harvey gently.  “Give me your phone.”

He took Mike’s phone and said, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped into an empty conference room and dialed.

“Lindquist Care Facility, may I help you?”

Harvey took a deep breath.  He felt like a heartless idiot just asking this question, but if he was right… “Yes, I’d like to speak to Catherine Ross please?”

“Just one moment,” said the receptionist.  The bare embers of hope began to kindle, and Harvey had to remind himself it was likely to be a huge facility, and the receptionists may not be familiar enough with each patient to know them by name.

The phone clicked and rang again, and an older voice answered the phone. “Mikey is that you?”

“Um, no this is Harvey Specter, Mike’s boss,” breathed Harvey, trying to rein in his relief. 

“Mr. Specter, so nice to finally meet you!” said Catherine.  “Mike has told me so much about you!”  She was silent a moment and followed with  “Is everything okay?”

Harvey smiled and said “Yes, everything is fine.  In fact, I do believe Mike needs to talk to you. Do you have a moment?”

Harvey chatted with the woman pleasantly on the way back to his office, waving off Donna’s attempt to talk to him.  Mike turned as he opened the door, and Harvey covered the receiver with his hand as he whispered through an affectionate grin, “She’s okay.  Here-“ he said, handing over the phone.

The relief he felt on Mike’s behalf lasted less than the length of the phone call before it gave way to a simmering rage.  He excused himself and walked over to Cheryl’s desk

“Hi Harvey,  what can I do for you?” said the brunette.  

“That phone call from Mike’s grandmother’s nursing home, when did that come in?” said Harvey.

“A few minutes before I found him,” said Cheryl. “I would have come over sooner but I was in the middle of directing one of Jessica’s new clients to her office.  Why?....”

“Can you check the caller ID on that for me?” said Harvey, giving her a charming grin.

She gave him a puzzled look but  complied. “Hmmm, that’s odd, it’s an in-house number.”  By the time she looked up, Harvey was already stomping back to his office.

The phone number turned out to be the house phone in the break room, the one located next to the associates offices.  Harvey mostly turned a blind eye to the corporate hazing that he knew happened with the new recruits, but this was so far beyond the limits of good taste it demanded sort of administrative discipline.  He refused to admit that his latest crusade had anything to do with watching Mike crumple before his eyes due to nothing more than a malicious prank.

**

“Any theories?” asked Harvey, already knowing the answer.  “The Usual Suspects?” he frowned at Louis.  As Harvey’s protégé, Mike had been hassled by most of the fifth-floor Pearson Hardman associates, but there were a select few that had been responsible for most of his day-to-day misery.

“Devon was in court all afternoon,” said Louis.  It spoke volumes, Harvey thought, that they were immediately on the same page with regard to the short-list. They were never on the same page about _anything_.   “Terry was meeting with a client,” Louis continued.

“And Gregory?” said Harvey acidly.   If Gregory hadn’t made the call himself, Harvey was certain he had put someone up to it.

“Mr. Tate has no alibi,” said Louis.  “Harvey, I feel for the kid.  I do.  But you know we can’t prove anything,” said Louis sympathetically.

“I know,” said Harvey bitterly.  He _hated_ being this ineffective. He was the best closer in the city. Surely he could help Mike out with _this._

“Increase his workload,” said Harvey. “If he has time for pranks, he sure as hell has plenty of time to process more case files.”

“Done,” said Louis.

“I’ll send a memo to the associates in the morning telling them to lay off Mike.”  Harvey knew this was going to make things worse in the long run, but his associate had been through enough for the time being.

“You know what? Why don’t you let me do it,” said Louis agreeably.  “If it comes from you, it looks like favoritism.  If it comes from me, the bullies will be a lot more likely to play nice in the sandbox. Just… don’t tell Mike,” said Louis, looking almost sheepish.

“That you’re really a softie?” smiled Harvey.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Could say the same about you, you know,” smirked Louis, smiling back.

“Better not,” said Harvey flippantly.  “After all, we have a reputation to maintain.”

 


End file.
